Do Humans Like Beautiful Things?
by unclefungusthegoat
Summary: A mechanical soldier once gave Empress Anne of France a key. Though she eventually gave the key to another, the sight of it riddling her sleep with nightmares, she never understood why she had come to possess it. Now Cardinal Richelieu, the churchman who loved to play God, is dead, and Anne must finally face her demon- the broken robot who reminds her of what it means to be human.


_France 1638_

Cardinal Richelieu, spymaster, inventor and engineer, was dead.

He had been a man of the church, who had served the crown by playing God. But upon the reading of his last will and testament, his treasons against the Emperor were at last laid bare, and it was decided that no successor should be named. That all of his assets- a legion of metal men- be decommissioned and destroyed. The Emperor of the expansive French Empire had always privately favoured his personal cavalry to take care of military matters. Men with muskets, blood in their cheeks and the name 'Louis' on their tongues. He revelled in this opportunity to finally rid himself of the company of Richelieu's mercenary soldiers.

They were infamous across the empires of Europe. Cold and unfeeling, they would infiltrate, assassinate, murder and burn at a single command.

They made no distinction between victims.

They paid no heed to pleas for mercy.

They rarely left remains for a family to bury.

They had faces that haunted dreams.

Anne, Louis' melancholy, reluctant Empress, often dreamt about an automaton, with a broken eye, standing over her.

When praying in the chapel, she had looked at the epitaphs on tombstones, and listed how many of them had fallen at a robot's hand. Most recently, the Lady Marguerite, nurse to Anne's only son, had been found dead, accused of treason and executed by Richelieu's army without a trial, and with very little left to identify her by.

She had pleaded with Louis to intervene on several occasions, but the Emperor had cowered in the shadow of the powerful inventor and at the sight of his creations. He even refused to listen to her recollecting her dreams, for fear the Cardinal would hear them and cease to protect him from the growing Spanish threat.

And for fear that he would be murdered in his bed, to be replaced by a wind-up imitation.

When Louis had asked her to go to Richelieu's offices, to ensure that his command of dissolution was being fulfilled, she had felt a knot grow in her stomach. He would hide in his palace, and send her instead, knowing all the while that her fear of the machines far exceeded his own.

Knowing that his Empress lived with the heavy burden of her own survival.

Even knowing that her nightmare still lurked there in the dark.

And that it would be waiting for her.

#

The offices were eerily deserted, yet there were many faces to keep her company.

Despite the fact that no one had come to give her a welcome befitting an Empress, Anne stepped cautiously into the abandoned building. She headed straight for Richelieu's office, left dusty in the six weeks since his death. The cream silk of her gown trailed on the dirty floor. The way was dark, all candles burnt out, the daylight unable to pass through the grimy windows.

In the long room, there was nothing but a desk, a chair and a workstation, with a robot shell resting upon it. She immediately moved over to the desk, papers piled high and a heavy wax seal standing guard on the corner. She wondered what secrets would be buried among his possessions.

The Musketeers who had accompanied her were waiting outside, as per her instructions. If _it_ is here, at least they will escape, she began, but stopped mid thought, to reassure herself.

 _There's no one to spark the fires._

 _No fire._

 _No robots._

She began to rifle through Richelieu's parchments, looking for anything of interest. She was surprised to find that there were no assassination orders among them, just technical specifications and church orders of business. She knew he had been a meticulously careful man, but to find nothing was odd to her. She wanted to find Marguerite's death warrant, with the injustice of her execution written plainly upon it. To send to her family, as a comfort.

"A…An…ne…"

She jumped at the mechanical voice, a hollow sound from a clockwork box, and went crashing to the floor. Gasping in pain, she desperately tried to scramble to her feet, but slipped back down again. Her ankle had broken.

"An…ne."

 _Please do not make me look at it,_ she prayed, _"the sight of it will drive me mad."_

"Anne."

She could see its shadow looming over her. It was too close to avoid, but not yet close enough to touch. She imagined its fingers gripping her jaw and dragging her head to force her to look it square in the face. Perhaps it would tear her head from her shoulders?

 _If I must look, it must be on my terms,_ she decided, not entirely convinced of her courage.

Slowly, the Empress took a deep shuddering breath.

And looked back at the creature who had spoken.

The face was horribly familiar. A golden oval, crowned with intricately sculpted hair, and wielding a sharply squared jawline, was its head. There were two perfectly round glass eyes set deeply into it. The left had a striking blue pupil painted delicately on its surface; the right was black and cracked, from where something had shattered it. Its arms were covered in numerous scratches and burns, and around its waist hung a long skirt that fell to the floor, made from tattered blue leather.

The initials R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T were engraved on its torso.

It had found her.

"Oh _God_ …" she breathed, fighting back tears. R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's front panel swung open efficiently and revealed an empty space.

A small, crucifix shaped slot.

It tilted its head and asked very matter-of-factly:

"Do you still have my key?"

Anne didn't know how to respond.

"Do you still have my key?"

"I…"

"Do you still…"

The sound of the robot's question unbearable, Anne held up a firm hand and silenced it. She had to get out somehow, but R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T was blocking her path to the door. Even the way it stood struck fear into her heart; the whirring and clicking as it leaned onto a preferred leg was identical to when it had cornered her all those years ago.

"No. I do not still have your key."

This did not seem to register with the machine.

"I have given your key to another."

The robot's front panel closed abruptly and it stepped forward. Anne dragged herself back a little across the floor, although when it did not seem to be coming any further forward, she stopped. She could hear blood rushing in her ears.

"Why did you give it away?"

It seemed genuinely interested, but the Empress could not help but hear its voice falter at the end. Had she imagined it?

 _No_ , she thought, remembering.

 _It made a choice._

 _All those years ago, it made a choice._

 _It can probably_ _ **feel**_ _as well._

"Shall I rephrase the question?" R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T enquired.

"No… I understood."

She would not lie to it. She was an Empress, a woman blessed by God to hold the scales and the sword of Lady Justice. Even if she was not strong enough to keep her blindfold on, truth was her weapon of choice, and she would face this creature with it.

"I did not want it anymore. Ara… _someone_ agreed to take it away, so I would not have to look at it."

If R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's face could move, Anne was sure that it would have frowned in confusion. She almost wished that its facial features would shift from the expressionless carving to something more human. It would frighten her less.

"But it was beautiful?"

It reached out an arm towards her.

"Do humans not like beautiful things?"

Slowly, Anne grasped onto Richelieu's now disorderly desk and pulled herself up, putting her weight onto her one unbroken ankle. She hissed with the twinging pain, but at least now she felt equal, if not superior to the machine. She still could not bring herself to look at it though, choosing to face the fireplace behind her.

"It was part of you. You are not beautiful."

"Am I not?"

She was horrified that it thought to ask.

"No."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T did not lower its arm, but reached out and pushed its fingers through her hair, as if it could feel her warmth, or the texture of her curls. Its touch was gentle, mesmerised, as though the hand was finally living out a long-imagined fantasy. This _machine_ was not like the others.

"You believe I am ugly because I kill."

Anne nodded silently.

"I did not kill you."

She turned around and found herself inches away from its face. She couldn't help but be drawn into it, to trace the smooth lines of its fabricated features with her gaze, to see the endlessness of its obsidian eye, to look for breath coming from its nose or mouth.

"I did not kill you because I thought you were beautiful. Does that not make _me_ beautiful?"

Her eyes widened with horror at the memory. Still in Spain, only a child, with days until she was to be married and no understanding of what that union meant.

Trapped in her bedroom with a machine who had been ordered to kill her.

 _"_ _I am instructed to terminate you."_ It had said, pressing its key into her trembling hands. _"But I will not hurt you. This key proves that I will not hurt you."_

Anne pushed the robot away from her. R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T went clattering to the floor with a clang that ricocheted through the entire building. Its black eye broke out of its skull and went rolling away. It had taken a handful of her hair with it, but the Empress had no time to dwell on her throbbing scalp. She began limping as quickly as she could towards the open door, hoping that Aramis and the others would have heard the commotion.

She was metres away when it slammed shut.

"I am broken."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T was slotting its eye back into place.

"I am broken. His Eminence tried to fix me but I am still broken."

Anne heard the Musketeers' footsteps outside and their fists against the heavy wooden door.

"What… what is wrong with you?" She asked, hoping to stall for time.

"I am too human."

Her heart stopped.

"I am not supposed to be this way. I am meant to be as the others are."

Anne watched as R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T walked away from her and approached the workbench it had been lying on. It picked up a rectangular panel of brass and held it up. From the shape of it, it looked like part of the robot's back. It was covered in holes where it had been drilled through.

"He did not retrieve me when I was dissected by Spanish scientists, because I am too human."

It lifted up the panel and peered through one of the holes at Anne who raised her chin regally and stated:

"You do not _sound_ very human."

"That is because I am not. But I _feel_ human."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T placed the metal carefully back on the table, making no sound at all, and for the first time, Anne felt unafraid. While she still knew that it could snap her neck in a matter of seconds, or reach in through her ribs and tear out her lungs, the gentleness with which it put back its old shell was such that she almost forgot that she was looking at a machine.

Curiosity was stirring inside of her. She needed to know more. She had to know the answers to questions that had plagued her since that fateful encounter all those years ago. If she left now, without answers, without understanding, this spectre from her past would be destroyed and the heavy weight of uncertainty would loom over her forever.

The first question:

"… _Can_ you feel?"

"Yes."

The second question:

" _What_ do you feel?"

Her voice softened and R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T seemed to register the change.

"I feel pain. Pain is the most human of emotions, is it not? People go to great pains to be happy, feel pain in their hearts when sad, and can die from the pain of losing what they love."

Anne's eyes widened.

"You feel all of that?"

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T shook its head.

"No. I do not remember being happy."

"Not once?" She whispered, "Ever?"

"I am His Eminence's slave. Slaves are not happy." It sounded bitter, its words so riddled with vengeance that Anne's bizarre illusion of security vanished instantaneously. "Although…" it continued, "I am happy now. With you. And I think I was happy then."

"With me?"

"You made me happy. But I do not remember the pains I went to in order to feel that way."

The thought of it made Anne shiver with something she didn't quite understand, like a mixture of fear and pity. She was aware that the hammering on the door had fallen silent. She was now alone again with the mechanical man.

"Are you happy now because you are going to complete your mission?" She murmured thoughtfully.

"I do not understand. Please repeat."

She wondered if she was going to regret asking.

"Are you going to kill me after all these years?"

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T approached, its tall figure looming over her.

"Why do you ask?"

Anne reached out and rested her fingertips on the key compartment. The robot was not cold, but buzzing with a warmth generated from a small fire burning within.

"You asked for the key back. The proof that you would not hurt me."

"You do not have my key."

"No."

"You gave my key to another."

With incomprehensible speed, R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's own hand grabbed hers. She tried to pull away but it held her firmly in place. Then, horrified, she watched as it strained to contort its face, its metal skull folding and creasing, with a torturous screeching sound. Its brow furrowed, horizontal dents like trenches forming, and the tops of its eyes shattered, cutting the spheres in half. It frowned down at her, as it had done in so many of her dreams.

Agony was written across its face.

"There is pain in my machinery. Without the key to wind them up, my wheels and cogs hurt when they spin. And pain is the most human of emotions, is it not?"

Anne boldly stared the machine in the face, determined that she would not buckle. Her ankle was screaming for attention, but she tried instead to focus on Aramis, on her son, on Constance, even on Louis. People she could never imagine not seeing again.

"But I cannot bear this physical pain anymore!" it shrieked, "I need _emotional_ pain. _That_ will bring me freedom from my captivity. _I want my key_."

Its voice cracked with undeniably human emotion.

"All those years ago, in order to be free, I did not gain a key, but gave one away."

The breath caught in Anne's throat. It is a _pitiful_ creature, she thought, watching its face contort again into something softer, becoming quiet and solemn.

"I gave you my key because I thought you were beautiful. I did not want to destroy you."

The little panel where the key was kept swung open again and Anne was forced to stare at the empty space that proved the machine had a soul.

"I thought that experiencing the torture of separation from my key would _make_ me human, that sacrificing myself for _love_ would…"

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's other hand stroked her soft cheek and Anne felt tears finally falling down her face. A loud clatter against the door told her that the Musketeers had returned, with something heavy to break it down.

"I have suffered these years with this agony, but I am still a machine. I was not going to kill you. But then I saw what must be done. If I am to be truly human, I must lose something I love. And then I will die from the pain of my heartbreak, in my new human form, and be with you in eternal rest. Free forever. Together forever."

One of the robot's fingers pulled a loose chain from inside its panel and tugged it free, sparks flying where metal scraped on metal. Anne tried to pull herself free, but it held her firmly in place. Then, almost tenderly, it wrapped the chain around Anne's throat.

"I love you, Anne."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T began to slowly twist the chain around her neck. She could hear it trying to mimic the sounds of her inhaling as it strangled her, rehearsing for its first human breath. The Empress swallowed heavily and closed her eyes.

"No. You don't." She whispered.

The chain was being drawn tighter and she could feel it cutting into her flesh. She could still breathe, but she guessed she had less than a minute before she began gasping for the air and her vision began to fade.

"You do not love me."

"I do."

"It was not love that made you spare me. It was the thought of your own freedom."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T did not loosen the chain. She was becoming desperate and knew that only the harsh truth would save her.

"You cannot become human."

It stopped.

"I do not understand. Please repeat."

"It cannot be done."

"I do not understand. Please repeat."

She felt sickened at what she said next, though she spoke it sympathetically.

"You are a machine. Metal and glass. Powered by a flame, maintained with a key."

It was too late to stop.

"You were built, not born. You rust in the rain. You do not breathe the air. You feel no warmth. You have no imagination. You suffer nothing. You live for _nothing_. And no amount of pain… can _ever_ change that."

The robot stared blankly at her for a few moments, and she felt the chain slip away to the floor. Gasping, she limped away, rubbing the droplets of blood oozing from her cut neck. R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T stepped away from her, trying to compute her words. Its head twisted to look around the room, as if the truth would be tattooed on the walls. It was lost.

"I cannot become human?"

Anne remained silent.

"Why? Why can I not be like you?"

It seemed angered.

"I am too broken to be a machine, but I am not broken enough to be a human?" The flame inside it flickered with despair, "And no matter how broken I become, I will… _never_ change?"

It stared down at its body, brass sculpted to look like a man, before looking at the curve of Anne's shoulders, the angles of her jaw, the length of her fingers and the light shimmering off of her skin.

"I will never be beautiful like you?"

Anne didn't know what to say.

The robot twisted the chain in its fingers, before snapping it in half. The Empress watched as R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T slumped down to sit upon the wooden floor, defeated. Its eye burst from its socket again, but it make no move to catch it. It tore its front panel off entirely, exposing the empty space and the flame behind it.

"My… key."

She could not give it anything.

Nothing to soothe it.

No key.

No humanity.

No love.

 _What must I do? It must be destroyed. It cannot be allowed to roam free. It may yet kill me. Or it may kill others. Emotions aside, it is still a weapon, a soldier, and a soldier without a leader is a fearful thing._

"There is a way…" the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's head lurched up to hear her speak.

"A way for what?"

"To free you."

It looked so hopeful.

"What is it?"

 _Best to do it now,_ she thought, _when it is not alone._

She could not believe she was sympathising with the creature that had tried to strangle her only moments before.

 _If this machine, who has slaughtered hundreds without mercy, has shown some degree of kindness, then I most certainly must have some too. It spared me all those years ago, despite its selfish intentions._

 _I owe my life to it._

 _It would not be right to leave it to die alone._

"Now that Richelieu is dead, the Emperor believes he is no longer in need of you. I came to see that his wish is done. You are to be destroyed."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T bowed its head.

"I know. But…"

"But…?"

It reached out a hand.

"But I must become human. I must be with you."

Anne knelt beside the mechanical soldier and placed both hands on its sculpted face, as if she were comforting a child. It was trembling.

"I do not want to be with you. You must accept that."

"No."

"You _must._ And you must accept your fate."

"What is my fate?"

She gestured down at the flickering light in R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's chest, and the mesmerising shadows of the inner workings it cast. The robot's head followed her finger and, upon realisation, pushed her away roughly.

"It must not go out. It has never gone out. I do not know where I will be if it goes out, nor do I know who I will be when it is lit again. There was a cyborg here once. A lady, beautiful like you, with a human head and a robotic body. Her flame was extinguished by a man who tried to hang her. When his Eminence relit it, she was not the same as she was before. I do not know who I will be…"

Anne pressed her fingers to its inanimate mouth.

"It will not be relit."

"...Ever?"

"No."

"So I will die?"

"Yes."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T stopped and seemed to think for a long while, before it looked up at her.

"Do humans think death is beautiful?"

Anne nodded, an overwhelming sense of grief flooding her veins. It was finally beginning to understand, but she felt guilt weighing on her. It was not in her nature to convince others to die. She was supposed to be France's symbol of life, mother to the future Emperor, a goddess amongst women. She did not care if her name was tarnished with rumours of adultery, but a death on her conscience would plague her forever, no matter how necessary.

"Yes. Most beautiful."

"Even… if it is… lonely?"

"All of the _most_ beautiful things are lonely. And there is _nothing_ more human than being alone."

The robot nodded slowly.

"So the light must go out if I am to be human?"

Anne wrapped her arms around the machine.

"If you are to be free."

R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's arms wound their way around her and they sat there, the Empress and her childhood demon, embracing each other for the first and last time. Even the Musketeers finally bursting in through the door did not stir them; upon seeing their sovereign comforting the condemned creature, they stood back, to wait for her.

"I will be beautiful like you," it murmured.

Anne pulled back slightly, and stared at the tiny flickering light, a precarious, fragile thing. Slowly, she took a deep breath and then looked up into the robot's face for one final time. The face that would never haunt her again.

"You already were."

As the flame died, R.O.C.H.E.F.O.R.T's clockwork ground to a gentle stop and the Empress cradled the machine's lifeless shell in her arms.

Her nightmare slipped away into an eternal dream.


End file.
